


Like Home

by its_mike_kapufty



Series: Tumblr Ficlets [25]
Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: College, Fluff, Holding Hands, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Painkillers, Skiing Trip, Snowed In
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-14 23:55:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29550327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/its_mike_kapufty/pseuds/its_mike_kapufty
Summary: Rhett doesn't like the way Link talks about himself while on painkillers.
Relationships: Rhett McLaughlin/Link Neal
Series: Tumblr Ficlets [25]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2170695
Comments: 10
Kudos: 27





	Like Home

**Author's Note:**

> For the one-word prompt "snowstorm."

There are worse places to hunker down in these conditions, for sure.

Rhett’s standing at their expansive double-paned window, staring at the thick curtains of snow adding fresh powder to the slopes outside. His breath fogs the glass and tempts him to draw a smiley face–or baby feet, to make it look like an infant had walked up the building. Link would probably find that more entertaining than the murmur of the local news channel advertising eateries and tourist traps, anyway.

Turning to regard him, Rhett finds Link gazing listlessly at the television with glassy eyes. His lips are parted just so and it makes him look congested on top of the injuries. It’s not that bad, though. He’s not _sick._ Just… living with the consequences of being accident prone.

“Check this out,” Rhett offers, stepping back and displaying the scene out their window.

Body encased in the syrupy embrace of heavy duty painkillers, Link’s head lolls on a swivel to do as he’s told. Those pupil-blown blue eyes flicker over the picturesque hillside dotted with pine trees before he closes his mouth. A moment passes where Rhett thinks he might be too tired to comment, but then, “And you’re stuck in here with me. Lucky you.”

“ _Stuck_ nothin’.” Crossing the room, Rhett eases himself onto the foot of Link’s bed, careful not to move him. “No one goes boarding with low visibility. S’dangerous.”

“Still in here with me.” Link sniffles and rolls his shoulders back, returning his attention to the TV. “If you weren’t, you could be out… makin’ pottery,” he jests, throwing a weak hand at the current commercial for a local crafts store. “Classes start at just $30.”

“Yeah. Sure, buddyroll.” Rhett grabs the remote and changes the channel. It lands on Animal Planet, and what appears to be a show about unlikely animal friends. A cheetah and a pig cuddle on-screen. 

“Or you and Will could go get food. I dunno. But you’re here instead.”

“Link, you’re injured. They discharged you under the stipulation that you _aren’t_ left alone.”

“And that chore fell to you, right?” Link cocks his head to consider Rhett. “I do somethin’ stupid, you’re left to hold my freakin’ hand through the aftermath. I know you’re sick of it.” He lets his eyes fall shut. “Heck, I would be, too.”

Geeze. The painkillers are really taking the spark out of him. “Ease up on yourself, man. You made a mistake. It’s okay. ‘Sides. I don’t wanna go traipsing ‘round with you left here alone.” When Link furrows his brow pitifully, Rhett shrugs and tries to lighten the mood. “We both know you’d manage to fall and re-fracture everything on your way to the bathroom.”

“Yeah… yeah.” Link’s tone is wrong. Accepting, self-degrading, sad. Clear: _I ruined our trip; I ruin everything._ It’s definitely the painkillers.

With a sigh, Rhett shuffles and scoots until he’s in the spot beside Link’s, their backs pressed against the headboard together. “I’m teasing, Link. How do you feel?”

“Ehh. Honestly…? I’m… I’m kinda homesick.” Link grimaces. His timbre falls low and pensive. “I know that sounds dumb, but I don’t wanna be here anymore. Just wanna be back at the dorm.”

“That’s–” Rhett swallows and mutes the TV. Maybe Link will hear it better if there’s no contest for attention. “That’s not dumb, bo. I get it. I… am kinda surprised that you consider our dorm to be ‘home,’ though.” It would’ve been easier to take care of him there, for sure. “Sorry you’re homesick.” 

“Eh. S’okay.” Link’s sluggish blinks announce another nap coming on, and Rhett eyes him in anticipation.

“You okay? Need anything before you doze off? Food, drink, adjustment…?”

“I’m okay. Just… wanna go home,” the brunet reiterates softly. 

That’s fair. 

There isn’t a lot Rhett can do for that, but there is _one_ thing that might work. Something that predates their dorm room. Without a word, he lays a hand between them on the bed–palm-up–and waits.

It’s been years. 

Link’s head drops to observe the offering. The longer he watches and doesn’t move, the higher anxiety piles in Rhett’s head, the faster his heart beats. But finally Link lowers his hand into Rhett’s and laces their fingers, squeezing. It’s familiar. The baby fat Rhett’s accustomed to isn’t there to cushion it anymore, but the coarse angles and warm skin he would recognize as Link’s anywhere.

“Hey, Rhett?”

“Hmm.”

“Can you unmute the TV so I can fall asleep easier?”

“’Course, bo.”

“Also…” Link shifts just so with his shoulders, shooting a pointed beg at him, and somehow Rhett knows exactly what he means. 

“Yeah. I won’t let go.”

“Thank you, Rhett.” 


End file.
